


String New Threads

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Darkangel Trilogy - Meredith Ann Pierce
Genre: Astronomy, Despair, F/F, Hope, Misses Clause Challenge, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: When the last fragment of the soul of the world was regathered and Aeriel stood in the heart of Crystalglass before the loom where she had learned to weave numbers into truth, she broke the cloth she wove and sank to her knees, weeping.
Relationships: Aeriel/Erin (Darkangel Trilogy)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	String New Threads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarsDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsDragon/gifts).



> _"There's probably not enough water left for the long-term, is there any way for Aeriel to get more?"_ What a fascinating question!

When the last fragment of the soul of the world was regathered and Aeriel stood in the heart of Crystalglass before the loom where she had learned to weave numbers into truth, she broke the cloth she wove and sank to her knees, weeping.

For the truth was this: despite all the water that had been released when Oriencor died and Winterock fell, despite the return of rain, there was no longer enough to restore the world to wholeness, or even to settle in a new balance as Ravenna and her kin had guided it to after the death of Oceanus. Too much had bled into deep heaven as the air escaped, or been burned to ash finer than air while Oriencor perfected her chariot.

All the pain of her sacrifice was for nothing.

Once, the pearlstuff would have chided her for despair, but Ravenna's echo had faded over the daymonths as Aeriel had grown in knowledge and trust in her own skill: a mother stepping back to let her daughter choose her own path. Now when Aeriel would have welcomed the Ancientlady's wisdom, when she wished desperately for someone to tell her what to do, the silence in her blood ached.

Erin found Aeriel huddled on the floor, drawn by an eerie, keening note that shivered from the blade Bright Burning which now hung from the wall of their shared quarters.

She sat beside Aeriel and slowly rearranged her love's body until Aeriel lay with her head in Erin's lap and her featherlight cloak of hope drawn over her body to hold in the warmth that pulsed like a heartbeat up through the intricate metal plates of the floor. Erin stroked her fingers through Aeriel's hair, the steady rhythm of touch and breath a silent reminder that Aeriel was not alone.

Eventually Aeriel's tears ran dry and she turned her face upward toward Erin, the shreds of her prediction clutched tightly in her hands.

"The world is dying. All that we fought for, all that we lost, all our hope, was in vain."

Erin tensed, but merely asked, "How so?"

"Too much water was lost while Ravenna strove against Oriencor. Our work to restore the world has bought a hundred years or so, but after that drought will return and worsen until all is dust and death."

Erin was silent for a moment. Then she grasped Aeriel's hands and gently worked the shredded cloth free. "Even if that's true, our fight was not in vain. The souls Oriencor stole were freed. Evil rulers were cast down. Fewer people live in want and fear. You freed Irrylath. You freed the gargoyles. You freed me. Even if the world should die tomorrow, those things have worth."

Deep in Aeriel's veins, the pearlstuff whispered a wordless assent.

"Moreover, I refuse to believe we can't find water somehow. That loom can only weave the thoughts you string on its warp and weft, and you only have what Ravenna had gathered while she was distracted by Oriencor. We have a hundred years -- hundreds upon hundreds of daymonths -- to spin new threads."

Aeriel shook her head, wiped the residue of salt from her skin. "The Ancients knew the art of spinning Solstar's light into air and air into water, but that could only be done on an already dead world lest the fire escape and scorch all life to ash. Even if the whole of our world chose to risk that fate, the power needed to start the spinning is greater than all the water that remains to us."

Erin brushed Aeriel's hair from her face, then set the callused palm of her hand tender against the curve of Aeriel's cheek. "So this is the truth you wove: that there is neither enough water on and in our world to sustain life past a handful of generations, and that the Ancients' arts will not suffice to spin new water from other things."

Aeriel nodded. "And so I am heir to Ravenna's despair, not her hope."

"Not so! Aeriel, there are other worlds. Ours is dying, Oceanus is dead, but what of the others? You taught me that the wandering stars are worlds like our own, and there are countless other smaller bodies in deep heaven. Surely you can find a small world, a dead world, made of winterock. We cannot travel to them on a chariot of flame, but perhaps we are not the ones who need to make the journey. What if you could guide a world of winterock to our skies where you could call that water down and seed it with life, as the Ancients did when they first brought water to our world?"

Aeriel set her hand atop Erin's own, hardly understanding her love's words. "One of the traveling worlds? The banner stars?"

"Melkior says they are made of winterock, and the banners are great sheets of rain that melts as they fly toward Solstar," Erin said.

_True_ , whispered the pearlstuff, so faint and frayed Aeriel could scarce tell its voice from her own thoughts. _They carry many other useful substances frozen in their hearts. There were some among the Ancients who thought life on Oceanus began when a banner star struck that world and brought a seed that flowered across the world._

"That's true," Aeriel said aloud to Erin. "But deep heaven is vast, so vast that a babe in arms could grow nearly old enough to marry in the time it would take to walk from our world to Oceanus, our closest neighbor. Oriencor collected thousands of souls and over half the water in the world before she thought herself ready for that journey. How could we reach far enough to touch a banner star, let alone to change its path?"

"Oriencor imprisoned thousands of souls. You freed them. Love is a stronger force than hatred or fear. Call the Maidens from their dance and ask, and I am sure the stars themselves will shape deep heaven to our needs."

Aeriel looked toward the crown of thirteen points that sat still and shining beside her loom, the heron sleeping peacefully on its brow. Eoduin and her sisters had flown to deep heaven, for even the slight pull of this world weighed heavy on the breath and flame of stars and Aeriel hated to bind them however much both she and they wished to remain together. They would rejoice at a task in the heavens.

But she would hate to ask and have her sisters burn themselves to ash in an impossible struggle.

Slowly, Aeriel gathered herself and stood, drawing Erin to her feet at her side. "The Ancients believed that shadows are what define our sight," she said, "that shadows give shape to all the colors of light. You are my clear sight."

"I am as clear as the light that casts me," Erin said, and kissed her. "Weave this new question into your loom. If the answer is no, we'll search again. If the cloth spells yes, we'll call a star down from the skies."

As Aeriel restrung her loom, Erin quietly fed the shreds of the world's foretold death into a machine that returned them to dust and air.

**Author's Note:**

> True fact: the working title of this fic was "let's go steal a comet"


End file.
